I found my great-great grandpa yesterday. He didn’t know that I was coming. He was fighting in the Civil War, and he didn’t know that I was coming.
He was a Sergeant in that winter’s cold. The casualties were high. General Sherman was fast approaching while canons’ hail filled the dark night skies. Men were dying, and little children too. And he didn’t know that I was coming.
He fought gallantly for Blue and Grey. His mother owned ten slaves whom she wanted to stay. But he fell in love with a beautiful lady he met so dark and fair. She had never been a slave to anyone. He married her and moved away from there.
For his great love he lost his rank. His family knew him not. He left Virginia with his brand new wife and moved to the south to cast his lot.
Ten sons had they who owned and farmed and spread across the land. He taught them all to read and write and he made them proficient in math. He would not allow them to be cheated, though it was a given in that terrible day of wrath. No, they were merchants, farmers and butcher men who owned the store in the town they lived in.
Alas, when I found him he was no more though he could never be dead. He came alive to me on pages of ages and stories both told and read. I saw him in my grandpa’s eyes, such love for us alone. My Papa loved us all so much that it made up for love we had not known.
So, I forgive great-great grandpa’s Blue and Grey and all that useless running. Because he honored my great-great grandma even though he didn’t know that *I* was coming.
Note: This is my true story of my great-great grandpa whom I just discovered fought in the Civil War. I found some family letters online where relatives wrote back and forth describing the war. My great-great grandpa and two gg-uncles fought in the Civil War. Genealogy is a hobby of mine that has become a passion. I never dreamed that there would be so many surprises in store. In fact, in this vein of my family, there were no slaves at all. This part of my family comes from Wales.